


like a heartbeat racing

by elisela



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Two halves of a whole idiot, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:08:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29410998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisela/pseuds/elisela
Summary: Buck can do this. He can totally do this, it’s just a favor for Maddie, and what’s he good at if not helping out his sister? Sure, doing a cake tasting when you’re neither the bride nor the groom is a little … unorthodox … but it’s cake. He loves cake, he specifically ate fewer carbs all week so he could pig out to his heart’s content on cake, delicious, fluffy cake, and he can do this.“I can’t do this,” he blurts out the night before, pacing the apartment with Eddie on speakerphone. “Maddie said she told them I would be coming so at least I don’t have to pretend to be Chim, but how pathetic is it to show up to a cake tasting alone?”
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 42
Kudos: 691





	like a heartbeat racing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [letmetellyouaboutmyfeels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/gifts).



> For my dearest Mads who I love with all my heart--I hope you have/had the happiest of birthdays ♥️

Buck can do this. He can _totally_ do this, it’s just a favor for Maddie, and what’s he good at if not helping out his sister? Sure, doing a cake tasting when you’re neither the bride nor the groom is a little … unorthodox … but it’s _cake_. He loves cake, he specifically ate fewer carbs all week so he could pig out to his heart’s content on cake, delicious, fluffy cake, and he can do this.

“I can’t do this,” he blurts out the night before, pacing the apartment with Eddie on speakerphone. “Maddie said she told them I would be coming so at least I don’t have to pretend to be Chim, but how pathetic is it to show up to a cake tasting alone?”

“Less pathetic than sending your brother in your place,” Eddie offers, and Buck laughs despite himself. “C’mon, Buck, you’ve been driving us all crazy about this for a week. I don’t know what you’re worrying about. Take someone if it bothers you that much.”

He pivots around the kitchen island and stops when his gaze lands on one of Christopher’s old drawings stuck to his fridge with a magnet from the aquarium. “That’s—yeah, man, that’s a great idea. Do you think Chris would like it?”

There’s a pause and a sigh, the one that usually means ‘Christopher has asked for something ridiculous and I’m trying not to be an asshole to my own kid’, and Eddie says, “Pretty sure going to school is more important than a cake tasting, Buck. I meant me, dumbass. I can go with you.”

“I’d rather have Chris,” Buck teases, “but yeah, you’ll do. Thanks, Eds.”

“Anytime,” Eddie says. “Besides, it’ll kill Hen. She was hoping you’d ask her.”

So there might have been one little, tiny thing Buck hadn’t considered when he’d invited Eddie—although technically, Eddie had invited himself—a detail so minor that he could be forgiven for overlooking it, considering he does so every day of his life and he hasn’t come out any worse for the wear yet: that Buck is absolutely head over heels for the guy. Easy-ish to ignore on a good day, when they’re messing around in the station, playing crime scene investigator despite Athena’s eye-rolling, playing board games with Chris and teasing each other about a fear of or dependence on technology—decidedly harder to ignore when they walk in the door of a bakery specializing in wedding cakes and are greeted with “Congratulations on your engagement!”

Beside him, Eddie stills, and then he’s moving forward to shake the woman’s hand and Buck catches the wide grin on his face. 

“My name is June, I’m just filling in today because Emily is out,” she says, and a flush moves up her cheeks when Eddie takes her hand. “I’m sorry, I only have a note that this is for Evan Buckley, I’m not sure—”

“Eddie Diaz,” Eddie says. “Buck’s fiance.”

Buck is going to kill him. In his head, slowly, because it would get weird fast if he actually said anything about it, but he can tell the smile on his face is a little fixed, too frozen, and he forces himself to not dwell on the words _Buck’s fiance_ and instead holds his hand out to June. “Uh, hi, I’m Buck. Evan.”

“It’s nice to meet you both,” June says, leading them to a table. “I’ll be right back out with the flavors you requested; would you like some coffee?”

They give her their order and take a seat, and Buck waits until she disappears into the back to kick Eddie under the table. “Chris would have been less trouble,” he says, trying to look exasperated and likely failing because of the grin that’s threatening to appear. Eddie looks pleased across from him, happy and relaxed, and Buck loves that look on him. 

“Probably,” Eddie says, toying with a fork lying on the table. “Chris won’t take you out to lunch afterwards, though.”

“He would try,” Buck says, and leans back in his seat. “And if we still have room for lunch after this? We failed at cake tasting.”

Eddie shakes his head with a small smile. “They don’t give you that much cake,” he says. “Trust me, you’ll be begging for a burrito the size of your head in half an hour.”

Buck’s disappointed to see that Eddie’s right; he’d been imagining whole slices of cake—maybe not as big they would normally be, but still enough that sharing six would fill him up—instead, they’re each given a small plate with several small squares of unfrosted cake, and three small bowls of frosting are set between them. June gives them a short explanation of flavors and leaves them be, coming back only to set down cups of black coffee before disappearing again.

“I don’t even know why people need to do a cake tasting,” Buck says, smearing a cube of chocolate cake with a frosting that he’s already forgotten the flavor of. There’s a bitterness to it; he thinks it might have been espresso. Clearly Maddie is still upset about limiting her coffee intake if these are the choices she’s making. “It’s cake. We all know how it tastes.”

Eddie makes a considering face, head bobbing back and forth for a minute before he licks frosting off his finger, and Buck’s mouth goes dry when Eddie’s cheek hollow. “Shannon and I had to do the whole tasting thing,” he says, “and one of the places—it was like eating cardboard. I guess it’s less about the flavors and more about if the bakery is good. This red velvet is great, though. It’s got my vote.”

Buck frowns at his plate and picks up the red velvet, digging the knife into the chocolate frosting. “Why not just buy a slice of cake to see if it’s good? It’s gotta be cheaper than all this.”

Eddie looks across the table and raises an eyebrow. “A bakery generally won’t make a custom cake just to sell you a slice, Buck.”

He pops the red velvet in his mouth and groans. “Okay, we don’t need to taste any more. This is it.”

“Pretty sure Chim is gonna want the double chocolate,” Eddie says, “but we’ll remember the red velvet for when we get married.”

He winks at him, and Buck has to fight to keep the look on his face neutral. “You know Chris will have to weigh in,” he jokes back, and takes a moment to be thankful that this is essentially the end of his torture. He’s tasted the cakes, he can give Maddie a good report, she can do the rest over email. All he has to do now is show up at the wedding, hold his niece while they say their vows, smile prettily at the guests at the reception.

Done.

He’s totally got this.

“Maddie,” he says, weakly, already knowing he’s going to give in, “that’s—that’s _all_ of it. That’s basically everything. Isn’t this what Chim is for?”

“Chim is a little busy with Joy, you know our schedules don’t leave us much time,” Maddie says, and his heart melts when he hears the mewling sounds coming from his niece over the phone. “Buck, please, I don’t have anyone else who can do this for me.”

He stares down at the list he’d started to write out while she’d rambled at him and sighs. “When’s the venue thing?”

“Thursday at 5pm,” she says. “Chim says Eddie helped you out with the cake tasting, so I put your names down. And you may want to take Chris—they offered to have some kid friendly food because we’ll have a few of them there.”

“ _Maddie_ ,” he groans, and she laughs and hangs up on him. He should have never divulged his feelings for Eddie to her, but five—six?—glasses of wine tend to make him a little loose-lipped. He stares at his phone for a moment before opening up his message thread with Eddie, snapping a picture of his now fairly lengthy to-do list (venue shopping, suit shopping, picking up invitations at some store all the way out in Malibu, florist appointment), and sending it. _HELP_ , he writes, and when Eddie texts back a laugh-crying emoji and a thumbs up, Buck folds his arms on the counter, drops his head into them, and lets his forehead bang down a few times.

He’s going to need to eat his weight in ice cream to get through all this.

Christopher—his former favorite child in the entire universe—has it out to get him. He _must_ , there is no other reason for him to blink his eyes up innocently at the man giving them the tour of the ranch and say, “Does that ferris wheel work? Buck took me on a ferris wheel before he saved me in the tsunami. Did you know he’s a hero? Dad is too, they’re both firefighters.”

Buck turns his choking into a cough while Eddie slaps him on the back. 

The man—Trevor? Travis? Buck had been too busy staring at the way Eddie’s skin glowed in the golden hour to really pay attention to the greeting he gave them—glances at Buck and Eddie with renewed interest before looking back at Chris. “Yes, your parents can rent it for the reception, if they’d like. We don’t normally turn it on for tours but I think we could make an exception, the kitchen isn’t quite ready for the tasting yet. I’ll go get it ready.”

Chris bounces a little in place and beams up at Eddie. “I want to sit on my own. I’m old enough now.”

“Fine by me,” Eddie says, shrugging before he nudges Buck with his elbow. “See, I told you it was a good idea to bring him along. We’ve already gotten a promise of free dessert and now a ferris wheel ride. Pays to have a cute face.”

The ferris wheel flares to life in front of them, and Buck has to admit that as silly as it looks in the day, it looks almost magical lit up in the twilight, throwing twinkling golden lights around the clearing. Christopher stares at it in delight, and Buck decides then and there that he’ll do everything he can to get Maddie to choose this venue no matter how the food tastes. Chris steps forward when the gate opens, declaring himself to be a solo rider, but he beckons to Eddie just a moment later and whispers something in his ear before sliding into the seat.

“Just nervous,” Eddie explains when Buck steps into his space, watching Chris with a smile. “Sit with me?”

“What, the nerves run in the family?” Buck asks, grinning, but slides into the seat next to Eddie when the chair comes to a stop and pulls the bar down over their laps. “Need to hold my hand?”

He wishes, but Eddie just rolls his eyes. “You’re forgetting which one of us free-climbed one of these.”

“Uh, Lena,” Buck says, raising an eyebrow. “You had a harness on, because Bobby would have killed you if you went up without one. And so would I—I didn’t nearly kill myself trying to outrun a tsunami for you to be an idiot.”

“I liked it better when you felt guilty about it,” Eddie says, tone light, and Buck laughs. “You’ve done plenty of heroic shit since then, let’s choose something else to brag about and move on.”

“Brag about?” Buck says, pulling away and putting his hand to his heart in mock outrage. “Edmundo Diaz—”

“Oh no, here we go.”

“—like we haven’t had to hear about you and Miss Firefox four-wheeling your way up a fiery mountainside—”

“Oh no,” Eddie says again, but this time it’s with a huff of laughter, “you don’t get to pretend I retell that story too often when Chris has heard your ‘and then I snuck out with the keys to the firetruck’ story so often he can repeat it word for word—”

“Hey, you joined us—”

“Yeah, they’re always like this,” Buck hears Chris say, and he realizes suddenly that they’re back near the ground and the wheel has come to a halt to let Chris out. “Auntie Adri says it’s how boys flirt with each other.”

Buck hopes Eddie can’t see the way his cheeks burn in the low light, but Eddie just laughs next to him and shakes his head. “Auntie Adri has never been able to tell when a boy has flirted with her before, so I’d hardly consider her the ultimate authority,” he calls out. He slides out of the seat when they’re back on the ground and slips an arm around Buck’s waist, shrugging with a little grin when Buck looks over at him. “Come on, Buck, we’re getting married,” he says. “Sell it a little.”

When he spears the last bite of porchini rubbed fillet onto his fork and holds it out for Buck to eat an hour later, Buck takes it, then goes for broke and leans in to brush his lips across Eddie’s cheek. “You’re the one who told me to sell it,” he says when Eddie looks over at him curiously. “Can’t keep up?”

“Oh,” Eddie says, tossing an arm over his shoulders and yanking him in, “it’s on, buddy. Dessert’s on its way. You’re messing with the wrong Diaz now.”

Well, if this is going to kill Buck, he might as well make the best of it while it lasts.

Buck has survived cake tasting, venue shopping, several florist shops from hell in which Eddie quietly told him about how he wanted to be a florist when he was younger and how he would check books out of the library to learn about flowers that had no hope growing in El Paso, picking out wedding invitations, and late nights of putting together wedding favors while downing beer and pizza like it was going out of style.

Buck will not survive the suit fitting.

He has no _hope_ of surviving the suit fitting. The only saving grace is that they’re both clearly listed as groomsmen and therefore Buck does not need to continue making himself suffer by pretending to be in love with Eddie while hiding that he is _actually_ in love with Eddie, even though he’s pretty sure it’s going to be written all over his face the moment Eddie steps out of the dressing room.

The quiet terror he feels—ridiculous, of course, he knows perfectly well that even if Eddie knew how he felt, he would be gracious about it. Eddie wouldn’t let something as silly as Buck’s undying love and affection for him ruin their friendship; Buck just doesn’t want the confirmation of impossibility—causes him to sit outside in his Jeep for too long, sucking at the ice left from his coffee like his life depends on it, which means when he walks in the door, Albert and Eddie are already dressed and standing in front of the mirror.

Buck might or might not choke on the ice still in his mouth, because Eddie’s got on dark blue slacks and a crisp white dress shirt, but the sleeves are rolled up to just below his elbows and his muscles flex as he fusses with the tie he’s got on. The bright smile that takes over his face when he catches Buck’s eye in the mirror doesn’t help. It’s like all the air has been sucked out of the store and he can’t breathe; he has to witness this particular feature of Eddie’s almost daily, but the dress clothing is a particular affront.

He’s going to kill his sister.

He pulls out his phone just for an excuse to look away and sends a despairing text to Maddie: _I’ve been a good brother to you. Why are you torturing me?_

Maddie doesn’t answer but it doesn’t matter because he knows perfectly well she’s not going to commiserate with him about it; he’d go as far to say she chose a more casual look on purpose just to mess with him, but he doubts even she would go that far.

Then again, he has had to pretend to be Eddie’s fiance on several occasions now, so maybe she would.

He takes long enough in the dressing room in hopes that they’ll be done when he gets out, but as luck would have it, Eddie’s just stepping off the platform when Buck pushes the curtain aside and returns his hands to his tie. “Here,” Eddie says, batting his hands away, “last time you tried to do this you almost choked yourself. Let me.”

Eddie’s so close that Buck can feel his breath puff against his chin, can’t stop staring at the swoop of his dark lashes against his skin. It takes everything in him not to lean in and press their mouths together, to cup his hand against the bit of stubble that’s built up over Eddie’s three days off and rub his thumb over his jawline.

“Thanks,” he says instead, and makes himself stand still and not chase after Eddie when he moves away. 

Eddie’s eyes look him up and down before he claps a hand on Buck’s arm and squeezes. “Lookin’ good,” he says, smiling. “Try not to show up Chim too much, okay?”

“You know,” Buck says over the sound of Chim’s protests, “it’s a little too easy to do.”

“It’s a beautiful wedding,” Eddie says, and Buck looks up just in time to see him collapse into the chair next to him. He’s so close their arms press together, but despite the open space on the other side of him, Eddie doesn’t move away.

“I’m glad you think so given you helped pick everything,” Buck says, grinning. He plays with the bottle of beer in his hands, picking at the corner of the label. Despite the rolled up sleeves and the shirt that gapes open, tie hanging loose, there’s sweat beading at Eddie’s temple from his turns around the dance floor. “It’s basically your second wedding.”

“Better than the first one by far,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “No one’s cried and said I was making a mistake yet, so that’s something.”

“The night’s still young,” Buck says. He expects a laugh, but when he looks over, Eddie’s watching him quietly, frowning slightly. “What? You know I’m just—”

“Come dance with me,” Eddie interrupts, and Buck allows himself to be pulled out of his seat but stumbles halfway when the song fades out into something slower. Eddie isn’t deterred by it, just tightens his grip on Buck’s hand and pulls him to the corner of the dance floor, furthest from the lights of the ferris wheel, nearly hidden in the shadows of the trees. 

“Eddie,” Buck starts, heart in his throat when Eddie tugs him close and settles his free hand onto Buck’s hip, warm palm pressing in and fingers curling around loosely. Eddie’s eyes are on his and he can’t look away, can’t even begin to pretend this is in friendship, not when Eddie’s mouth is tilting up into a smile and his thumb starts rubbing across Buck’s knuckles.

“Night’s still young,” Eddie murmurs, tilting his head in; Buck mirrors him without thinking about it, letting their foreheads come to rest on each other as their feet move in slow circles. “You can tell me if this is a mistake.”

“I don’t know what this is,” he says, swallowing. He knows exactly what he wants it to be, but after months of time spent pretending to be engaged at wedding appointments, he can easily talk himself into thinking Eddie’s just playing pretending. Finishing up their long fake-engagement with a wedding, a dance, and probably by smashing cake in his face later—he wants so badly for it to be real that he’s worried he can’t see when it isn’t.

Eddie’s mouth against his, though—Eddie wouldn’t take it that far, and Buck’s not dreaming the slight hesitation where Eddie’s breath hovers in between them when he pulls back, a shaky inhalation and the feeling of fingers tightening on his hip. He only knows that Eddie’s about to pull away and he’s only had the barest hint of a kiss, and he’s cupping Eddie’s cheek with his free hand before he can think about it and leaning back in, coaxing Eddie’s mouth open with his own. He’s dimly aware that they’re not moving anymore, that Eddie’s arm is sliding around him and pressing him in closer, that he’s got one hand curved around the back of Eddie’s neck and wishing his hair was just a little longer so he could bury his fingers in it. He barely registers it when the song changes again, when someone waist high knocks into them as they run around the dance floor; he’s just held still by the feeling of Eddie’s body against his, the way Eddie kisses him like it’s the thousandth time they’ve done so, soft and gentle and heartfelt. 

He’s a little dazed when they finally break apart and he licks his lips to chase the taste, meeting Eddie’s gaze without trying to hide something for the first time, and he blames the way his head is still buzzing when he opens his mouth and says, “wedding planning is going to be harder now that Maddie took all our ideas.”

“Well, we can start with the red velvet cake,” Eddie says after a beat, and he shakes his head. “If we can get Chris to agree, that is.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://elisela.tumblr.com/post/643046650092371968/like-a-heartbeat-racing-elisela-9-1-1-tv) if you wanna


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